


K i s s

by seulpapillonnoir



Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Bottoming, Comedy, Domination, Drama, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Flogging, Flying, Friendship, Gay, Gen, Heterosexual, Humour, Jealousy, Kink, Kissing, LGBTQ, M/M, Modern, Multi, New York, Orgasm Control, Other, POV First Person, Pining, Psychological, Restraints, Romance, Slow Burn, Spanking, Submission, Tension, Topping, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension, Wax Play, contemporary, m/m - Freeform, sub-space, top space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:33:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26072731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seulpapillonnoir/pseuds/seulpapillonnoir
Summary: Maddison thought there was nothing more to life than the everyday grind—until he met Gabriel Hale, a dazzling psychiatrist who’d swept in and turned his world upside down.What Began as a dizzying, unexpected foray into the world of kink turns out to be the start of the most intense ride of his life and all the hidden desires he’d unlock along the way.But will he submit?
Relationships: Angel & Daniel, Angel/Daniel, Athena & Naomi, Athena/Naomi, BDSM - Relationship, D/S - Relationship, Homosexual - Relationship, Jon & Kalliope, Jon/Kalliope, Jonathan Stone & Kalliope Richards, Jonathan Stone/Kalliope Richards, Kat & Mike, Kat/Mike, Katherine & Michael, Katherine/Michael, Kink - Relationship, Maddi & Gabe, Maddi/Gabe, Maddison Thorne & Gabriel Hale, Maddison Thorne/Gabriel Hale, Master Daniel & Angel, Master Daniel / Angel, Power Exchange - Relationship, Sir Michael & Katherine, Sir Michael / Katherine, coworkers, dominant/submissive - Relationship, gay - Relationship, heterosexual - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. The Fold

# 

#  Chapter One

I should’ve known he would be trouble, but here I was--doing the unthinkable anyway. I don’t know what possessed me to agree to this, but it wasn’t like I’d had anything better to do on a Friday night. Things were pretty slow going at the hospital, and I couldn’t seem to get out of my head enough to hit the studio to dance my frustrations out. Even that was probably a bluff, though. I hadn’t danced in months, and when I did have the energy, I ended up pouring it all into my patients. Neglecting my duties at the hospital when the mood struck was sure to go over terribly with my bosses. Figured it the quickest way to be out on my ass and dancing to an audience of one in my mirror while I combed through ads on Indeed.

I had to hand it to him, though, this was one helluva spot. It was nothing like the rest of the club circuit, illuminated and cast in hues of neon pinks, blues, and martian greens. I’d left the metro just a half hour before, tucked into a fur-lined denim jacket, a pair of black jeans, and a plain black t-shirt. He’d said there wasn’t much of a dress code for first-timers, so I didn’t think much of it, opting for simple. The Doc Marten’s on my feet thudded heavily against the pavement despite my light frame, and I hunched not from the autumn chill but the nervousness slithering its way around my insides. 

The ‘club’ wasn’t anything like I expected. It wasn’t flashy and didn’t have any garish signs announcing its name. In fact, I didn’t see one at all. Had it not been for handy-dandy google maps, I wouldn’t have given the place a second look. It took three passes to find the entrance, but I realised it was one of those dive-bar scenes that took you down a steep set of stairs to a door that surprisingly muffled the thrum of music beyond. I could feet it vibrate beneath my soles and it made my calves tremble. Ducking into the hall beyond, the bouncer was the first thing that caught my eyes once they adjusted to low light. The recessed lighting was a red so deep it almost looked purple, and what illumination it offered was swallowed up by the abyssal black of the walls. At the end sat a sizeable man, his features serious but not unwelcoming. His gaze took me in for the fresh meat I was, but if he was judging me it didn’t otherwise show in his handsome face. Up close, he was overwhelming. Intense brown eyes, dark chocolatey hair that was swept back and away from a smooth, angular face. He was cut—as much was evident even through his black fitted. Mine sure as fuck didn’t fit  _ me _ that way. Self consciousness had me retreating a little further back into my sheepskin. 

“Welcome to The Fold.” 

“Uh, thanks.” I mumbled, digging nervous fists deeper into my pockets. 

“ID?”

“Oh, right.”  _ Dumbass.  _ I fished my wallet out of my back pocket and flashed my ID, chain jingling in the brief moments when he took it to verify its authenticity. 

“Alright, Maddison.” He half-smiled and cocked his head, pulling the heavy door free to reveal the interior of the main club. I offered him an appreciative nod and stuffed my wallet back into my ass pocket, reluctantly walking headfirst into bass that reverberated up my spine and rattled in my skull. 

To my right, the club opened up into a masterpiece. Balconies circled the upper level and overlooked a circular dance floor set a few steps below entrance level. It glowed and illuminated the railings that cordoned it off, making it mostly safe from drunken bodies that might unsuspecting venture too close. Beyond it was a magnificent stage that reflected the glow of lights and had-- well, I wasn’t even sure what the hell I was seeing, but it was next to impossible to peel my eyes away. 

Blindly, I wandered in, passing and half-bumping into bodies on my way to a sleek bar. Where the hell was Jon? I immediately leaned against the polished marble-top, struggling to get my bearings. Everywhere, bodies were clad in leather, latex, and in all states of quarter, half, and full dress. I watched as bodies surged on the dancefloor to the soul-numbing beat and felt my skin heat at the sight.  _ Holy shit _ . What was this place? 

I noted where the VIP section was on the first level--slightly raised and tucked further back by the stage with an unobstructed view of any performances that might take place. I couldn’t imagine anyone but Manson or Reznor up there in a place like this, though. Maybe with different lighting, one of those soulful jazz singers if the mood was right. 

“Looking for someone?” A voice filled my ear, snatching me from my daze.

For lack of better judgment, I nodded, turning my head too late to the adonis behind the bar. He was all perfect white teeth and sandy blond hair. It was a few shades darker than my own but had highlights—evidence of his time in the sun. He wore an open button-down and a pair of heather grey jeans, looking every bit as classy as he did delicious. I had to remind myself I was looking for someone.

“Do you know a guy called Jon?” I yelled over the bass, leaning close enough that I could catch a whiff of his cologne. It was woodsy but crisp in a way that pleased the senses. I lingered a beat longer than I should’ve, but if he minded he never showed it. Amusement danced in his gaze, but he offered me a nod all the same.

“VIP, but I think he’s somewhere on the floor. Newcomer?”

“That obvious.” 

His eyes raked me over from head to toe, a smile quirking his lips. “Just a little.” He mused. “Want a drink?”

“Sure.”

“What’s your poison?”

“Something sour. Make it strong.”

“You got it.” I barely saw the concoction he put together, but he promised I’d love it by the time he was finished emptying the shaker into a glass for me. “I’m Alasdair, by the way. Drink’s on me.” He hit me with a dazzling smile and I had to suck down a mouthful of drink before I could offer one back that wasn’t so nervous. “Anyone bothers you, you let me know, I’ll teach ‘em a lesson.” He winked, and for a second I felt like he was saying something more than he did. My mind was too boggled to seek out double meanings, though. 

“Thanks.” I had to shout, but I was sure he probably just read my lips anyway. Turning back in the direction of the floor, I watched a sea of gyrating bodies. Most danced, but at the railings there were onlookers, ever curious as to the displays below. Something about their expressions reminded me of—hunger? And something else. But whatever it was screamed danger and only had me swallowing down another mouthful of sour delight. The alcohol warmed my gut and I was sure I’d feel a faint buzz soon. I could already tell it was smoothing out my frayed edges. 

Hazarding another tentative sip, I let my eyes wander. Most at the bar were just fetching drinks. A couple of bodies lingered on high-chairs, nursing glasses of liquor that looked a lot more tantalising than mine. I let myself wonder, nearly missing the gaze of a handsome stranger somewhere down at the other end. It was hard to see him in the shadows at such a distance, but he raised his glass politely and smiled. I could’ve sworn he’d popped a dimple, but squinting didn’t give me much more to go on, so I mimicked him, bringing my mystery drink back to my lips. 

Someone hooked me by the elbow and spun me to one side, fruity goodness spilling over my fingers.  _ Jon _ . “Hey, cutie. Took you long enough.” He tutted, eyeing the drink in my hand. “See you found your way to the bar before you found me. How’d you manage that?” 

“The bar was a lot more attractive.” I quipped, trying and failing to fight a smile. It was a damned lie, though. Jon looked like an absolute knockout in tight jeans, some kind of gothic peasant shirt, and hair swooped back in a cropped cascade that complimented his masculine features. He stood at least a good half a foot taller than me, so I had to tilt my head for a better look at him. .

This was more than I’d bargained for. He’d said nightclub, but he sure as hell never specified  _ this.  _ Where tables were situated, some who enjoyed company had others kneeling at their feet. Folks on leashes, a couple of cage dancers who were shackled and suspended above the crowd. They moved and writhed to a gutteral beat, setting the patrons on the floor off. I didn’t know whether half of them were dancing or fucking, but I didn’t doubt either answer was right. 

For the first time I took notice of the almost equally tall brunette tucked against Jon’s side. “This is Kalliope. Kalliope, this is Maddison. He’s an old friend.” Realisation filled her delicate features and she fixed me with a warm smile. He must’ve filled her in about me before tonight, and I wondered what he dirty secrets he’d betrayed in the process. “She’s with me tonight. Remember I told you I met someone at my studio?”

“Right, right.” I didn’t remember shit, but he didn’t need to know that. We shook hands like we’d just gotten together for a business meeting before she resumed her place at his side.

“We’ll show you the ropes. But first thing’s first, get rid of that glass. I’ll get us a round of shots.” He waved a hand impatiently toward me and for lack of a better solution, I downed it. I was gonna’ regret this, but it was too late for reservations now. 

Jon stalked off for the bar, leaving Kalliope and I to face off. Shyly, she inclined her head, wrapped in a latex mini-dress that accentuated her tiny waist and wide hips. She was pretty, with her soft pink lips, baby doll eyes, and even softer waves. “You two dating?”

“Something like that.” She admitted with a flush. “We’re in a trial period.” She offered, fingers lacing like she’d just dropped some whopper.

“Oh.” I guess that made sense, so I nodded along long enough for Jon to come back with our shots. My first drink was already starting to settle in, and the quick shot to follow loosened me up enough that the dance floor was starting to look more and more enticing . 

“You want a tour?” he offered after tossing back his own. 

“I actually think I’m gonna dance a little.” I smacked my lips against the smooth sensation the tequila left behind on my tongue. 

“Alright, buddy. We’re up there when you’re ready. Just keep things polite and let anyone who asks know you’re with us. I let the owner know I’d have company tonight, so I’ll give you the 4-1-1 when you’re done.” He pointed to some distant corner of the club, but I was too slow in looking to catch where he meant. “I wanna show her off.” He smirked, laying a kiss to her cheek that made her squeal. 

“We’ll catch up.” I promised, already making my way toward the VIP area to ditch my jacket. Hopefully it was the right table. Jesus, how much did this kind of thing cost, anyway? I never asked Jon about his earnings these days, but I always got the sense he was pretty well off. 

Overhead, the music changed, rolling into a dreamy intro with what sounded like tambourines. They went off rapid fire as I teetered at the edge of the dance floor. Bodies swayed as drums set in--asses, hands, tits, hips moving this way and that. I brushed my way through the crowd, already feeling wavy. I floated through the bodies, swaying to the beat, letting my hips do the talking, head tossing with the easy roll of drum beats, content to coast. Then, I saw him—coasting along the the edge of the opposing platform, watching me.

The eyes that fixed on me shone with an interest that was nothing short of predatory. In a sea of tossing bodies, he moved forward, stepping down from the upper level, making a straight path never impeded by the gyrating masses. I faltered, the hair on my nape instantly on end. Pure sex rolled off him in a way that terrified and amazed, and the tinge of fear settled right between my hips. He closed in, all smooth olive skin over sculpted muscle and coppery brown locks shifting with every step. Before I could retreat, hands found mine, sliding along my wrists, inviting. Intense grey eyes held my gaze from beneath a veil of thick lashes and turned everything in my head to mush.

A voice all around us whispered, the beat a mirror of the jack-hammering in my chest.

_ Recollect me darling, raise me to your lips, _

_ Two undernourished egos, four rotating hips, _

_ Hold on to me tightly, I'm a sliding scale _

_ Can't endure, then you can't inhale... _

“Dance?” It wasn’t really a request, but I nodded anyway. With a smile, he started off easily, leading me further into the crowd, just swaying with me, hands raising mine to the ceiling and trailing down my biceps. They feathered over my ribs as we kept time, shifting to the beat. His nape was warm under my hand, the short hair of a fade tickling at my palm. My lips parted and I could almost taste him, cologne and something else filling my nose with every shallow breath. His nose dipped down to brush mine, lips upturned in a devilish smile. Hands found my ass and hips met hips, friction bringing painful attention to the half-hearted hard-on I’d been sporting since he first set eyes on me. Dancing with thighs interlocked, my head fell back on a careless moan that got swallowed up in the tantric surge of drums, bodies, and heat. Something resembling a growl filled my ear and my eyes flew open, vision going awol when he whipped me around to bring my ass to the cradle of his hips. Even in my hazy state, I felt the slide of muscle against my back and the hardness up against my backside. A sharp pang zipped through my core, ass grinding against him through buttery leather. Fingers swept across my bare abdomen, hiking up my shirt, doubling back to tease along the line of my hips. I sighed, hips straining to follow the contact. His fingers danced over the crotch of my jeans and mine shot up to card through delicious, silky waves. Teeth teased at my wrist, then at my earlobe, nose and lips nuzzling at the place behind my ear.

“Oh, God...”

A dark chuckle was the one answer I got. Sensation overwhelmed me. Smooth fingertips brushed a path across my left nipple, the bud hardening from the whisper of contact. I knew this wasn’t like me. Which wasn’t to say I didn’t dance pretty fucking dirty when I got down to it, but we were getting away with too much. 

“You’re rare here.”

“Huh?” It was hard to fight through the haze of pheromones and deep strobe of the overhead lights. 

“Where’s your escort?”

“Busy…” Where  _ was _ Jon? I couldn’t remember where he said he’d be heading off to. 

He tutted, hands shifting to my hips, trapping me there so I kept time with him. “He never should’ve left you alone.”

Fear tightened my throat, awareness coming back to me in a way that had my stomach doing little flips. My dick went unaffected, though, suffering the friction of my jeans at the pace he set. “Why’s that?”

“Lots of hungry eyes. It’s usually pretty easy to spot fresh meat here.” They were a pretty tight-knit community, after all. “Are you a new sub?”

“A what?” I had already gotten the idea this place was one of those kinky spots, but the lingo and I were not yet so well acquainted.

“Submissive.” Despite the music, I could hear every word.

“I came with a friend.” I offered, clueless. This wasn’t usually my scene. Whatever the hell he was on about, this was Jon’s thing, and I was just along for the ride. I had a general idea, but agreeing to anything without being totally in the know seemed a dangerous move to make.

The beat switched over to some kind of grungy tribal affair and the spell we were under slowly broke, the energy picking up in a way that brought the dancefloor to a bounce.

The stranger I’d been rubbing my frustrations all over let me turn at last, his gaze appraising. Up close he knocked the wind right out of me. If he was suffering any for the arousal trapped up against my thigh, it didn’t show. “What’s your name?”

“Maddison.” My dumb ass didn’t think to offer a nickname.  _ Of course _ .

He smiled, all dimples and perfect pearly whites. I wanted to reach up and rub my fingers over the stubble along his jaw, but before I could give the thought a chance he was changing gears. “Let’s go find your friend.” 

It wasn’t nearly as difficult getting off the dancefloor as it had been getting onto it. Bodies more or less parted for him, but given his size, I didn’t blame them. I’d get the hell out of the way, too. I clung to the hand leading me until we were back on bar level.

Friction by Imagine Dragons started blaring overhead, lights giving everything a stop-motion effect. Still reeling from the dancefloor, it took me a little while to notice Jon waving us over from our table.

Kalliope was knelt beside him, postured in a way that didn’t register enough for me to ask questions. My ass hit the seat of our semi-circle booth and I damn near head-butted the guy.

“Gabriel!” He rose up to clap him on the back and exchange a hug. Of course they knew each other. Jon knew everyone. “I see you met Maddi-boy.” 

“Don’t ever say that again.” I threatened darkly. 

“Oh, come on. Loosen up. Here,” He poked a shot toward me, eyes all bright and innocent. 

I fixed him with a hard scowl. “No, thanks. I’d rather not be half dead tomorrow.”

“You don’t loosen up, you’re gonna end up full dead is what. Gabriel, you stickin’ around?”

“Nah,” He chuckled. “I think I’ve had my fill tonight.” Something about the way he said that made me blush, and I was suddenly very grateful for the ambient lighting. 

“I’ll see you around.” Jon promised.

They slapped and linked fingers in one of those bro-shakes and just when I was sure he’d forgotten about me, he shot me a smile. “Maddison.” And then he was gone, retreating amongst the bodies and booze.

“Y’all dance?” Jon eyed me surreptitiously, a smirk in the corners of his lips.

“Barely.”  _ Liar _ .

“Gabriel’s good people.” If he was disappointed, it wasn’t too obvious, at least.

“I think I’m gonna’ pack it in.” I hauled myself up with a little effort, but Jon kept me anchored with one hand on my wrist.

“Now, hold on, you barely got here. I told you I was gonna’ blow your mind, right?”

_ Too late _ . “Right.”

“I know I said I wouldn’t give details beforehand, but that’s only cos’ I knew you’d get all anxious and wouldn’t come otherwise.”

“How do you mean?” Why didn’t this feel like it was headed for a happy ending.

“Sit. I wanna give you the rundown on this place.”

Against my better judgement, I did, but I took care to sit on the opposite side of the booth, hands folded in front of me like some middle schooler. “I’m all ears. If you tell me there’s some kind of murder workshop in the basement, I’m getting the fuck out of here, though.”

Jon barked out a laugh, waving off the suggestion with humour. “Nah. The most you’ll find down there is a dungeon. That sort of thing is easily accessible here so long as you’re in good standing. Upstairs, we got private rooms and parlours, and even spectator lounges. Down here, you have the pit, the stage, the dining area--which is kind of spread out in sections as you can see-- and down below is where all the dungeon action happens.”

“And what, possibly, would anyone do in a dungeon?” Incredulity was all over my face, I could feel it (surprisingly). 

“Play, of course. You have a couple other spots that house play, but not like here. A lot of the folks you see here are either together or lookin’--trollin’ for a one-off or maybe their next contract.”

“Like business?”

“Sort of. Remember when we talked about how I’d get you in on the kink scene?”

I blanched, the puzzle-pieces all coming together in my alcohol and lust addled mind. “Yeah…” He’d mentioned something like that a couple months before, but we hadn’t talked much about it since.

“Consider this your introduction. I’d say running into Gabriel is a good start. He’s pretty hard to approach, you know?”

No. I had no idea. He’d had no problem reeling me in like a damned tuna. “I don’t get it, though. What’s the point of all this? Isn’t it like…” I made a mock whipping action with my hand and Jon barked another sound of amusement.

“Sometimes, but I promise it’s for pleasure. Maybe next time we’ll get lucky and there’ll be some folks displaying.”

“What about...those rooms?” I hated myself for asking, but I was curious. Google wasn’t much help where this kind of thing was concerned as far as context went. After our talk, I’d done some digging, but I more or less tumbled down an informational rabbit hole and had to practically claw my way back out.

Hesitating for a few seconds, he shook his head. “Nah, I say we leave that for another trip. I just wanted you to get your feet wet. The next time you come pokin’ around, someone might wanna poke back, and it’d be better to have a little more of your feet under you, so we’ll sit down when you’re nice and sober to go into the finer details.” He had me there. 

I could hardly process the remainder of the night. Most of the ones who approached me were nice enough—polite. Apparently, Jon had been a long standing member, and that association got you somewhere whether you were a newbie or not. The weird thing was that I didn’t get nearly as many puzzled looks as when I’d first arrived. Jon managed to suck me into more shots, and before the night was out we’d finally crossed paths with the owner of the club. She was already pretty tall, and stood a few inches taller than me still in her heels. Her hair was all swept up off her nape, her chocolaty complexion glistening even in the relative dim of the VIP section. She extended her hand and offered a polite greeting, her full lips curving up into a smile that warmed her features. Jon introduced her formally as Mistress Athena, and I took care to try to store it in my mental Rolodex. 

“So lovely to have you. Jonathan told me he had someone he wanted to potentially bring in.”

I smiled nervously, unsure if I should pull away from her grasp. “This place is great.”

“Thank you, we certainly try.” The whole thing married class and contemporary, and it was all very—intoxicating. “Will you be joining us again in future?” She spoke to me, but Jon was the one who answered.

“Definitely. I didn’t really give him the full tour since it’s his first night. Figured it didn’t make sense to overwhelm.”

Empathetically, she nodded, fixing me with a bemused look. “Why not come by in the day? I’d be happy to offer a proper tour to a potential.”

Jon tossed me an uneasy glance. “Maddi?”

“I’d be down.” Maybe it wouldn’t be so intimidating in the light of day, anyway. Who knew what was awaiting me in those rooms after what google’d shown me. Besides, better to say yes when the liquor was providing me with ample courage. 

“Excellent. I’ll be here tomorrow, Thursday, and Saturday during the day. If you come on Saturday, you’ll have to be here before midday. Tomorrow and Thursday, feel free to come anytime after nine.”

“PM?”

“AM.” She clarified. “Jonathan, give him my number?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

Turning away from us, Mistress Athena bid us a good evening and elegantly melted back into the scenery. I watched her go, noting the easiness in her stride despite those killer pumps. “I guess that’s that on that.”

Jon gave a low whistle. “What’d you do, roll in a pile of clovers before you came?”

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“She doesn’t offer tours all willy nilly.” Exasperation trimmed his tone, and he eyed me sideways for a second. “You better not cause any trouble.”

“Scout’s honour. Besides, she probably only took interest because I’m your friend. Guarantee you if it’d been just me, it never would’ve gone down like that.”

“Yeah, yeah. Helps that you’re cute, I guess.”

“Tch-” I waved him off dismissively. I’d been called a Pretty Boy a thousand and one times, and I thanked my parents for that if nothing else. Blond hair and blue-green eyes that settled somewhere around teal most of the time got you a lot of attention. Didn’t have anything to show in the way of facial hair, either, so occasionally ‘baby-faced’ snuck its way behind that title, too. “I think I’ll head back. I’ve got work in the morning.”

“Alright.” Jon held my jacket up like ever the gentleman, and I shrugged into it with a little sway. “You good getting back or do I have to take you home?”

“Nah, I’m good. Took the train.”

“You sure?” 

His skepticism was kind of insulting. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll see you around. Kalliope, it was seriously a pleasure.”

“The pleasure was mine.” She chimed, leaning over for a little hug.

They watched me head for the door, and the bouncer gave me a head bob and a smile on my way out. Come to think, he might’ve been laughing at me. I’d almost tipped into the wall. Outside in the crisp night, I huddled a little deeper into my jacket and made the trek to the metro. The train’s sometimes stopped running earlier than the posted schedule, so it never hurt to get there a little earlier if you could.

Bed would be a comfort, but I didn’t let myself do it. Instead, I let the door swing shut behind me in my little studio and stripped down for the quickest shower on earth. I don’t know what happened between then and when my body hit the sheets, but I was gone before my head fully hit the pillow. This night had been wild, and in the grip of slumber, I dreamt of those burning grey eyes.

***

Morning ushered in grey skies and soft thunder. And  _ nausea _ . I groaned at the sour bite in the back of my throat and took my time sitting up. My stomach still churned uncomfortably, but it wasn’t gonna’ get any better like this, so I hauled myself up to get dressed then dragged my ass to the kitchen for relief. Two gel caps and a tall glass of cool water would probably get me through the morning, at least. 

Out in the world, it was already drizzly, and the short walk to the metro had my head and shoulders damp. Mist clung to my jacket and my eyelashes and fogged up just about every reflective surface it touched. I worked at a hospital full time, so I already knew I’d be in for hell today. Quiet mornings at a psychiatric facility didn’t really exist, after all. 

Manuella, one of the unit secretaries hopped up to give me a half-hug, leaving a smudge of red lipstick, I was sure, when she pecked my cheek. “Morning, Sunshine. There’s coffee in the break room, and I already have some paperwork for you to go through.”

_ Great. _ “Alright, Mami, I’ll be back in two shakes.”

She snickered and swatted me with a file, so I gave her a little shake of the hips and tossed her a smile. Mornings like these were always easier with an angel on your shoulder. Manuella was like that. Maybe a little more so because of her impossibly kind face. I’d met her family many times before, especially for holidays, and I could see why she always came into work smiling. 

Once I changed up into my scrubs, I got my ass moving for rounds and swung back by the nurse’s station for charts once I’d done my initial check in. Better to know who might need escorted somewhere or other before I really got going.

“Hey, what happened to Mr. Evans?”

“He got discharged, actually.”

“What?” My brows shot up, disbelief thick in my voice.

“His daughter came and got ‘im.”

“Plot twist.” I mumbled.

“Right?” Manuella slid another chart atop my stack and shook her head. “She’s gonna have him do IOP instead. Said she’s moving and can’t afford to fly back and forth with him here. And since her mother died, he’s the only one bringing her back.”

“Can’t say I fault her. At least she’s taking care of him. Some folks’ve got nobody.” I clicked my tongue and made a small notation before half turning away. “Thanks, Manuella. I’ll see you in an hour.”

Our facility, Lily of Eire Integrated Health was among the highest rated mental health facilities in New York. One of the few not yet absorbed by a major healthcare system. As far as psychiatric hospitals went, we also offered the most extensive treatment options for everything from eating disorders (which actually require medical facilities and not just treatment centres) to long-term care for neurodegenerative disorders. Our campus consisted of four main buildings, three of which were adjoined, one of which housed administration, and three smaller buildings for residents, outpatient programmes, and classes or workshops held by the local medical universities. 

Manuella and I held things down mainly on the Acute Care Unit (ACU, for short), but I occasionally took days on our Adolescent or General Adult units. Most of the patients by this time were more or less looked after. I only had to assist with a few changings and monitor a shower or two before I was back at base and settling in for a fat stack of paperwork.

“You hear about the new staff coming on?”

“Yeah, I heard. Not too many, though. When are they gonna’ get us more bodies for the evening shift?” I slid my chair closer to hers and let her stick a cookie in my mouth. 

“Amen, mijo. I have no idea, but I’m telling you. I can’t keep doing this. I wanna’ see my babies in the evening.”

“I thought  _ I  _ was your baby.” I pouted.

She swatted me with a snicker and sucked her tongue. “Don’t play with me, you know I love you to death.”

“Alright, I’m on my best behaviour now, I promise.” In a manner of speaking, anyway. Despite her suspicious look, I did my best to look innocent, munching away at her homemade sugar cookie like it was the last one on earth. 

I tried to get through work with as little thought on the time as possible. Maybe I  _ would _ take the chance to swing by The Fold after. Couldn’t hurt to get a tour when the place was still fresh in my mind before I could get all sheepish in the days to follow. On my lunch break, I paid Mistress Athena a phone call and set up the tour for the early evening, not even bothering to change out of my scrubs when my shift ended. I just tossed my clothes into the little duffel I kept for just such nights and made the trip out to the club. Not that we’d agreed on a specific time since I told her about my job, but I didn’t want to keep her expecting me the whole night.

When I arrived, I thought I’d find the place empty. The daylight had only just more or less faded into dusk, but even this early I spied a couple of patrons making their way down. Hiking my duffel a little higher, I entered through the plain black door and nodded to the bouncer. 

“New look?” He asked playfully. “Didn’t peg you for role-play, but I guess you never know.”

“I, uh, just got off work.” I offered, heat already rushing to my cheeks.

“Ah,” His brows popped up a fraction with interest, and after a moment’s more consideration for my getup, he extended a hand. “I’m Jace. I’m here most nights. And you are--?”

“Maddi.” 

“Alright, Maddi.” He gave my hand a slow shake before releasing me. “Head on in. Mistress Athena did tell me she was expecting you.”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Funny-lookin’, bout yay high, strongly resembles a tomato?”

I inhaled, pursing my lips in embarrassment. 

“I’m just messin’ with you. Go right on in, I think she’d taking care of a few things at the bar.” He chuckled. 

I nodded and hunched in on myself a little, cutting to my left to push past a second set of heavy doors into the club to beeline for the bar. Just like Jace said, Mistress Athena was posted up with a laptop and a tall glass of water beside her. She must’ve seen my reflection in the screen because one toss of her hair over her shoulder and I was pinned with another beautiful smile.

“Maddison, welcome back. Join me?” She gestured a graceful hand toward the highchair to her left, and I parked it without a single objection. “You seem a little nervous.”

A glance over my shoulder told me there was a pretty decent turnout here tonight. Nothing crazy, and the music wasn’t blasting (yet), but it still surprised me to see so many bodies already here. “Yeah?”

“This is a social establishment as much as it is a nightclub.” She explained, wrangling my attentions back where they belonged. “Jonathan didn’t say much in the way of what your expectations for this were, so I thought I’d just ask.”

“Mine?” Did I even have any? It hadn’t really crossed my mind. “I honestly don’t even know what kind of expectations to have. I’ve never, uh, done this before.” I had to keep myself from admitting to knowing next to nothing about it. 

“Well, let’s start with the basics, then. What do you know about BDSM?”

“Well, from what I read, it’s Bondage, Discipline, Sadism, and Masochism.”

“And let’s not forget Dominance and submission. There’s a little overlap in the acronym. The number one rule we stand by is that everything having to do with this lifestyle is SSC. Safe, sane, and consensual.”

“Makes sense.”

“Rules should be simple, direct, balanced, and realistic.” She turned to me, sipped her water, and crossed one long leg over the other. “Dom(me)s—which is a title that applies to men, women, or any other gender as they so will, though it differs in spelling depending on the person—are the ones who take control in a D/s dynamic. Submissives are the ones who willingly give their Dominants that power.”

“To do what with?”

“Anything they agree to. And anything they think is in the best interests of their submissive.” 

And what does the submissive get out of it?” My head was reeling.

“Some would say freedom. It depends what you get out of your submission. Not all dynamics are sexual, although they can be. But it’s important to note that a Dominant only has as much control or ‘power’ in such an exchange as the submissive allows.”

“So wouldn’t that make the submissive the one in charge?”

Mistress Athena let loose a little laugh. Glad to see she was amused. “In a way, yes, that’s exactly right. But it can be very empowering to relinquish control. From what my submissives have described, they feel lighter and have a clearer head. Especially the day after a session. If you’d like to get an idea of what that looks like, I’d be happy to show you with the permission of one of our Dominants.”

Show me? If I said yes, what did that mean agreeing to, exactly?

She must’ve read my thoughts because her tone softened and her hand found its way onto my forearm. “Hey, if anything makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to stay. Just give me a sign.”

“Like an ear pull?”

“Something like that.” Her expression held a little less concern when we left our seats at the bar, and she led me up to the next level. Instead of taking the stairs, we stepped past a fancy wrought iron and glass enclosure into a lift, and after a button press we were whisked away.

Stepping out into the open had my nerves all in bunches. The passages were mostly empty, but the sounds that floated from all directions were plenty of company. A loud crack had me jumping out of my skin, but if Mistress Athena noticed, she at least didn’t call attention to me.

As we covered ground, I was distinctly aware of the echo of her heels, sharp and deliberate. I wondered if anyone in these rooms would hear up traipsing about up here. The Parlour, I came to learn, was one of three open play areas where scenes could take place. It was furnished mostly like a regular old parlour, but I swallowed at the implements along the walls and furniture I’d never laid eyes on before. Different shaped benches and a huge ‘X’ were the biggest things that caught my attention.

We moved on to pass some of the private rooms that lined the main hall before coming to a foyer that opened up and extended off to the right and the left. Three private rooms were before us, beyond a sitting area of sorts, and two more rooms similar to the parlour we’d left behind lay to our left and right.

I peeked into the one off to the right, the mysterious blue glow catching my attention. Mistress Athena urged me gently in that direction. “Shall we go and see?”

“Sure.” I offered, trying to sound as casual as possible. The closer we got, the tighter my hands curled into fists, and when we came to the archway, we were met by the sight of a woman cuffed to one of those big ‘X’ shaped fixtures by her wrists and ankles. She was blindfolded, wearing no more than a pair of lacy panties, and her hair was twisted and piled atop her head in what I guessed must’ve started as a pretty nice do. 

Before her, a shirtless man in assless leather chaps was whipping at her with one of those leather tools. Every time it hit her skin, she arched, flushed from head to toe, pink marks littering her skin everywhere I guessed his implement had landed. 

“The woman there, Katherine, is Sir Michael’s submissive. He’s the one with the flogger in hand.”

_ Ah, so that’s what it’s called. _

“Isn’t that uncomfortable—being cuffed to that thing?”

“The St. Andrew’s Cross? No. I suppose depending on how it’s done, it could be, but in my experience, generally no.”

“I see.” I watched with genuine interest as Sir Daniel worked, surprised at myself that it wasn’t nearly as frightening as I thought.

“Do you want to see more?” came an enthusiastic voice.

Nodding, I offered the Mistress a smile and let her lead me off to the other parlour. 

This one was much darker, faintly lit only by candles that’d been posted up in sconces about the room. Two more were set aside on a silver platter. My eyes landed on the barely illuminated form of a man, sprawled on some sort of curvy furniture piece that forced his hips up and cradled his head and shoulder blades in a slope at a lower vantage than his bottom half. His ankles were bound with what I guessed must’ve been rope, woven through a number of points that made it so that his wrists were bound as well. Over his eyes was a blindfold, and aside from that and the rope he was mostly bare. He was  _ beautiful _ . A sheen of sweat covered his skin, and even in the dim light I could tell he was fit. His dark hair was wild, mussed up, I’d guessed, from earlier struggles. The man above him was the picture of calm, his expression one of pure focus as he drew one of the candles from the platter and hovered. Wax spilled over and dripped onto the skin of the sightless man’s lower belly, and he arched, jaw clenched against what must’ve been some kind of sting. I sucked in a breath, rubbing at my thighs in discomfort, but the reaction that followed wasn’t what I expected. He moaned, licking at his lips, muscles tensing at he flexed against his restraints. It wasn’t until I saw his Dominant’s hand make a move toward his hips that I realised he was naked. He took the brunet’s length in hand and gave it a lazy, unhurried stroke, eyes alight with satisfaction at the tortured sound he got in return. 

“Please…”

“Please what?”

“More, please, Sir…”

I settled into a chair I didn’t realise I’d need until Mistress Athena settled in beside me. In silence, we watched the torture—every stroke, every drip of wax, and every time the man’s Dom leant down to whisper at his ear. I watched on, horrified, mystified, and about as turned on as I’d ever been in my entire life. The telltale heat burned in my ears and cheeks, one much more sinister settling low in my belly. Not to mention, my poor heart was beating at about twice it’s usual rate.

“What do you want?” The Dom was stroking at his arousal again, never slower or faster than the pace he set.

“To come, Sir.” The sub strained, as if just breathing the words had become painful. I was sure in better light, his dick would’ve been bright red. 

“Jesus…”

I felt warmth at my shoulder as Mistress Athena Leant in. “They’ve been here about four hours, Angel and Master Daniel.”

_ Four- _ what the ever-loving- “ _ That long? _ ” He’d been undergoing this for  _ four hours _ ? Something about that made my balls ache.

We watched for another twenty minutes as this cycle of suffering went on, and even when we left, the poor sub was still begging for release. I shivered once as we re-entered the foyer, pulling my duffel a little closer to my front. 

“That’s called edging. I know it might look cruel, but the end result is mind-blowing. Sometimes, you even black out, the pleasure’s so overwhelming.”

As I followed behind, I did my best to readjust myself in my boxer-biefs. Thank God for loose scrubs, or I’d be showing a lot more interest than intended.

“Do you think you’d want to try it?” Mistress Athena fixed me with a bemused expression over her bare shoulder, her eyes twinkling.

“Absolutely not. I’d rather get the flogger.”

She tossed her head back in a full on laugh, then, taking me back down to the first floor. “Look, I’ll be honest. It takes time, patience, and an open mind as far as learning goes, but I think you’d make a good submissive.”

“How do you figure that?” I tried not to sound too offended as we re-approached the bar. Two fresh glasses of water were set down for us, and I took long swallows to hopefully mask the effect those scenes had on me. 

“Well, I’m guessing you work at a hospital because you like to help others, right?”

“Right.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m an NP.”

“I’m sure you take excellent care of your patients.”

“I do my best.”

“So while you’re taking care of them, who’s taking care of you? It’s gotta be stressful.” She offered, genuine concern tinging her words.

Reluctantly, I nodded, head lowered enough that I hoped she couldn’t see how true that was. 

“Do you ever feel like you have too much on your plate?”

“All the time. Most nurses do.” I said matter of factly. 

“And what about the environment. Say you had to deal with overly demanding superiors?”

“Kind of too late for that.” 

“Do you still give it one hundred percent?”

“Always.”

“Why?” 

“Because those patients deserve that, and I have pride in my work. It doesn’t always get noticed, but it’s always worth it.” Now that, I felt deep conviction for. 

“And does that give you pleasure, meeting the needs of others?”

“Well, yeah… it’s my calling, I guess.”

“And how do you feel about rules?”

“I think they exist for protection. If they’re immoral, they totally deserve to be broken, but beyond that there isn’t an excuse. No rules means no order, and no order means total chaos.” Just the thought of anymore discord on top of what I usually saw at the hospital made me shudder.

“I really think you’d make a good submissive, Maddison. And it could be good for you. But you have to come to the decision on your own. I don’t want you to feel like anyone’s pressuring you to pursue a lifestyle. If you’d like, I can send you some reading material, and you can choose how to proceed from there. And of course, you can always call or text.” And with that, she laid a gentle hand to my shoulder. 

“I’d like that. I’ll think about it.” I must’ve been out of my mind, but the words had already left my mouth. 

Mistress Athena took down my e-mail address and promised to send me some stuff by the end of the night before turning me loose. I didn’t have the stomach for anymore alcohol, so I settled for a ginger ale before I left and made the long trek back home. By then, it was actually still raining, as it had been for the latter half of the day into the evening, and the second I arrived, I punched the key for the lift, determined to get the hell out of my damp scrubs. The button didn’t even light up, so I jabbed it a couple more times before another resident called over.

“Hey! Elevator’s busted, gotta’ take the stairs.”

Fucking— “Thanks, ‘ppreciate it.” Resigned to the four floor climb, I took myself to the stairwell and jogged my way up, just about out of breath by the time I shoved open the door to my floor. Huffing, I rounded the corner to my apartment and stepped into the squish of wet carpet. Dread formed a hard ball in the pit of my stomach, and the closer I got, the more water rose around my soles. 

_ No, no, no, God, please- _

Despite zero hope, I let the door swing open to find the monumental mess my apartment had become. A quick walk through told me every room was soaked with water, which was still running out into the hall, and there was a gaping hole in my ceiling from where part of the upper apartment’s floor must’ve caved. Drywall, wood, and fragments of unidentifiable infrastructure littered my coffee table and the space around it, water spilling from the gaping hole at a steady rate. A soft mewl caught my attention and I rushed over to scoop Daisy from the floor, tucking her little body close and stroking over her ears. “I’m so sorry, you must’ve been terrified.” She let me press kisses to her little kitty face for as long as it took me to whip my phone out.

First thing I did was call my landlord, who to my surprise, hadn’t even left me a message. Apparently, it was already being seen to, but there was no telling how extensive the damage would be until the next day when it hopefully stopped raining, so that meant I was pretty much on my own for the night.

“If you’ve got somewhere else to go—”

“I  _ don’t _ . Unless it’s a hotel. You gonna’ reimburse me?” It was tough to mask my irritation, but it wasn’t like he’d come in with a sledgehammer and fucked up my space.

“If you can afford it, send me a copy of the receipt and I’ll work it out with upper management. I’m so sorry-”

“Thanks, I’ll do that.” I hung up before the guy could even say goodbye and angrily stalked to my bedroom to pack what I could as far as clothes went. I didn’t have much in the way of a wardrobe anyway, so I took all of my work clothes and what I had as far as everyday wear and stuffed it into a suitcase. Important documents and pictures I didn’t want ruined by mould went, too. 

Daisy’s food bowls, her bed, and her toys went into another bag, and I herded her into her carrier before snagging the clean litter box and a bag of the good stuff. An hour later, I was checking into Best Western and sending a copy of the receipts to the property Manager. Whatever this mess turned out to be tomorrow, at the very least we had somewhere to stay for the night. Daisy spent most of the evening checking the place out, and once I was showered and in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for bed, I was about ready to call it quits. 

Tossing myself into bed, I pulled the duvet barely up over my waist and shut my eyes, feeling Daisy settle in on my chest a few minutes later. Behind my eyes, flashes of the evening’s earlier antics resurfaced, bringing a new flush to my cheeks. Life as a sub… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Snatching my phone off the table, I thumbed through my apps until I came to my e-mail and smiled at the last one to hit my inbox. Mistress Athena.

_ Maddison,  _

__ _ I hope this helps you make a decision. Until we meet again. _

_ xx,  _

_ -Mistress Athena _

She’d attached a good number of PDFs, links, and visual references. Sure, I had work in the morning, but I didn’t see how I was going to shut my brain off after the way this day ended. So I dove in. Might as well get the low-down on all this if I was going to consider it for a serious lifestyle change. That night, I drifted off to the sleep to thoughts of flogging, and the man wielding it looked dangerously familiar. Too bad my body couldn’t fight unconsciousness long enough to figure it out.


	2. c h . 0 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next instalment of “k i s s”! Will Maddison meet his naughty Prince Charmant again?

#  Chapter Two

“Dr. Hale.”

“Good morning, it’s lovely to see you again, Ms. Saunders.”

“Please, Isabella is fine. Let me give you the walk-through once more, and then I’ll introduce you to your team.”

“I’d appreciate it.” He rose from his seat to follow the HR Coordinator through automatic glass doors and through a lush courtyard. It was pretty crisp, teasing autumn by the next week the latest. He took in a nice lungful and turned his face up to the sun, gliding into the next building after her to take in the first unit they’d be touring. The full walkthrough took about forty minutes, and after a little coordination, the main team he’d be working with was gathered before the nursing station. Well, most of them, anyway. There was definitely a difference in shift to consider, but Isabella reassured him that he’d come to meet them all during his shift rotations as he became familiar with the patients as well. 

Once he got settled into his new office, it was nothing but case files to review. Nothing unexpected, considering he’d be diving straight in, but from the sheer number of inpatient dossiers, he had his work cut out for him. Isabella mentioned something earlier about splitting the load with another doctor since he wouldn’t be here full time, but he figured it best to familiarise himself with everything, worst come to worst. There was still his own practise to manage, and if he felt it would suffer with the added workload, it might mean cutting back, but he didn’t want to set himself up for the unknown before giving things a try. As far as first days went, he wasn’t doing too badly. 

Hale fingered the top button of a soft grey oriental collared shirt and undid it, crossing one leg over the other as he dove into the first patient. He’d been in this field for some time, had seen a multitude of things come across his desk. To think he was here now, back on the hospital scene, was actually pretty damned exciting. It’d been years since he’d worked with anyone inpatient, but it was never too late to jump back into the fray. 

He spent most of the morning and afternoon holed up with his work and slithered out sometime after four to call it a day before working on his schedule for the coming week. Plus, two patients had already reached out about emergency appointments, so the departure was pretty much inevitable. Briefcase in hand, he made the short trip to the lot and unlocked his car. Most of the spots that’d been full when he’d arrived were vacant, but it wouldn’t be long before evening shift folks started rolling in. He figured it better to get out before the traffic jams could start forming.

***

Switching shifts had to be about the dumbest decision I could’ve made, but between meetings with my landlord, the property manager, and the contractors who were supposed to fix my place, there wasn’t much I could do. Honestly, I was lucky anyone had even been willing to do it on such short notice. I toted my fresh duffel toward the hospital’s main entrance, thankful for the lack of cars to get in my way as I cut through Lot A. Somewhere near the entrance, some tall SOB was folding into a slick blac kMaserati, and I had to do a doubletake at the car.  _ Damn _ . Donor? CEO? I’d seen plenty of nice cars come through our lot, but that was a new one. Something about the shadowy figure struck a little familiar, but it was hard to see much more with the glare of the sun obscuring the interior. I hitched my duffel a little higher and power-walked it into the lobby. Maybe if I got in fast enough, the whole shift would fly by at the same pace.

Except, it didn’t. It dragged major ass right up until nearly midnight when they’d set me free. I didn’t even have the energy to feel hungry given the two meals I’d skipped, and carting myself all the way to the station to catch the metro had proved pretty exhausting unto itself. Jon left a couple messages for me to call him sometime around six, so I jammed the phone up between my shoulder and my ear to wait for an answer.

“Hey, you good? Wanted to see if you’d be down to come around tonight.”

“I’m tired as shit, Jon.” I didn’t even have the will to sound annoyed. 

“Rough shift?”

“Rough life.”

“Yikes. No worries, if you need to crash, then crash.”

“Where’re you goin’ anyway?” I shouldn’t’ve asked, but me and curiosity. Just couldn’t our hands off each other.

“The Fold. Gonna’ go mingle, grab a few drinks, and see how Kalliope does tonight.”

“Right. She said you were in a trial period?”

“Yeah, basically seeing how things go and if we can commit to an actual contract. Depending on how things go the next couple of outings, we might just sign on the dotted line.”

“Ah, must’ve missed it in my reading.”

“You lookin’ into it?”

“Yeah, Mistress Athena sent me some stuff. I can’t do tonight, but I wouldn’t mind coming through on Saturday. I’ve got some stuff to take care of the next couple days.”

“No worries, we can catch up then.” As soon as the call ended, I slumped against the window and shut my eyes. What I would’ve given for a hot shower and a nice, long sleep. 

***

The next couple days passed mostly without incident. My landlord informed me that the repairs would take a few weeks, and I had to pray to every god in existence to steady my hands so I didn’t choke the guy out. A few weeks in a hotel would probably clean out a good chunk of my savings. It was doable, but it hurt just to think about, and it wasn’t like they’d be reimbursing me for the whole thing. He’d said waiving my rent through the next couple months was about the best he could do, so my attitude when I rolled into The Fold Saturday evening wasn’t exactly on balance. Jon knew the second he saw me. His brows dropped low, the smile on his face morphing into a serious line. 

“What’s up? You look like shit.”

“Thanks, you’re lookin’ pretty good yourself.”

“You know what I mean.” He parked it next to me and waved the barkeep over with a couple fingers. Two shots of patron hit the counter and we both knocked one back before the conversation could really get underway. 

“So what’s the deal?”

“My apartment’s trashed right now.”

“What happened? Burglar?”

“I kinda wish. Infrastructural bullshit.” Without pause, I waved for the barman to hit me again. 

“So where’re you posted now?”

“Best Western. Which is pretty fucking ironic, considering this is the east coast.” I was doing my best to let the humour cheer me up, but I wasn’t ready to let go of my irritation yet.

Jon tossed back his second shot and ran his tongue over his teeth, leather jacket creaking as he leant closer to the bar. “For how long?”

“Few weeks, at least. Apparently, my place isn’t the only one that suffered damage, so now they have to do an overhaul. It’s slow going with all the contractor bullshit.” A defeated sigh left me feeling more deflated than when I’d first arrived. In just a matter of days everything had gone to hell. 

“Three weeks at a hotel is crazy talk. What’s that gotta work out to?”

“Even for Best Western, you don’t wanna’ know.” I warned. 

Jon cast me a sideways glance, mouth all screwed up in irritation. “Crash at mine.”

“What- nah, bro. Come on, fuck off.” I waved dismissively. “I can’t put you out like that, you’ve got Kalliope.”

“I can’t let you stay in a hotel. Kalliope and I have plenty of other space to play.” He said ‘play’ so innocently, I almost wanted to laugh. Maybe it was my nerves. “Lemme help out.”

“I don’t know, Jon… it feels like it’s too much. I appreciate it, but I don’t think I could accept it.”

“I could break into your hotel room if it’d make you feel better. And pack faster.” He offered. Somehow, I had a feeling he would do it. “It’s not forever, but it’s a waste to blow all that money when you could be looking for a new place and using it for security instead.” Okay, he had a good point.

I ordered another drink--this time a whiskey sour--and waited until I had the first sip to really consider his offer. Three weeks would set me back pretty badly, if I was honest, and I didn’t really want to keep Daisy cramped up in a hotel week for almost a month. She was small, sure, but it wasn’t a good way to really start off with a kitten. Hesitantly, I gave Jon a good once over. Patient as ever. It almost made me mad he was gonna’ win this argument. “Three weeks?”

“Three weeks and I’ll help you find a place while we’re at it.”

“You have yourself a deal. And I buy the groceries.”

“Then we have  _ ourselves _ an accord.” We shook on that and turned back to our drinks, the whole thing done in a matter of seconds. Talk about a wham, bam, thank you ma’ame. “In other knews, looks like we have some entertainment tonight.”

I peered over my shoulder in the direction Jon was looking and caught a glimpse of a pair of women in leather masks whipping some guy up on stage. He was shackled to some kind of rack, wearing no more than a pair of leather shorts. One of the Dommes splashed him with water and roughed him up, slapping his face. He watched her like there wasn’t even another soul in the room. Beyond those three, nothing else existed. My mind shot back to the guy on the fancy-weird couch. 

_ Please, Sir… _

Clearing my throat, I dropped my gaze back down to my drink and let my mind wander. Mistress Athena had said it would take time and research, but the truth was that I couldn’t get it out of my head. It was getting a little ridiculous how often I recalled it. Sometimes, in my sleep, it was me shackled to that couch and pushed beyond my limits—begging—needing…

“Maddi.”

“Huh?”

“You zoned out, buddy. Did you hear me?”

“Hear what?”

Jon smiled. “Mistress Athena said she had a good feeling about you after the tour. Said you’d probably make someone very happy. That’s a high compliment coming from her.” He informed me, one brow cocked in mild disbelief. 

“Yeah, well, I hope she isn’t putting too much faith in me, I’m still very much on the fence.”

“Fair enough. I’ll be interested to see what you decide.” Jon mused. 

The rest of the night went pretty smoothly. Jon and I tore it up on the dancefloor, and despite the fact that I was still a new face, most of the interaction I had was pretty polite. There were a few folks that tried to make a move, but they understood when I had to turn them down, luckily. Didn’t make sense going after a sub who wasn’t a sub, or… something. 

In the coming days, I shifted base to Jon’s and Daisy made herself right at home in his bedroom. By now she was used to him, so it made sense she’d take comfort in rolling all over his things. It was nice to not have the anxiety of dropping thousands of dollars on a hotel hanging over my head, and Jon clearly didn’t mind the company. We spent most free evenings at The Fold or out and about in town. The more often I visited, the more appealing the lifestyle became, haunting my nightly reves and tugging on my strings whenever I let my mind wander for too long during the day. Maybe I  _ would _ ease my way into the lifestyle. Little by little. And maybe, just maybe, someone would be willing to take me under their wing.

“ _ Code Nine, ACU, Code Nine, ACU—”  _ The overhead squawked, and I knew a second later that the code team would come busting down the hall. 

I was on the floor trying to get a patient into a PRT, but he was one huge SOB, and the more he thrashed, the harder it was for the other nurses to get close. He bucked and the back of his skull cracked me right in the nose, pain shooting up behind my eyes and tears springing free. I tightened my hold and tried to roll him, hitching one leg around his knee to give him less stability.

“ _ Oh my God,” _ One of the younger nurses looked at me, all pale and watery.

“Dr. Hale is on his way.” Manuella’s calm demeanour offset her fear, and I was grateful. I didn’t need this patient going positively apeshit and hurting anyone else. 

More bodies crowded, and soon we had him properly subdued. I didn’t move until he got his IM, too agitated in his state for us to get him onto a gurney and into a room. I was sure they were going to cart him off to put him in restraints, but he’d be monitored closely, at least. 

Hands guided me over to a chair, my vision still bleary with tears and salt. Fingers lifted my chin and something damp started dabbing at my nose. I squinted, flinching at the contact.

“Now hold on… here, tilt your head forward. Looks like it’s still bleeding.”

“Thank you.” Damn did that voice sound familiar.

“Luckily it doesn’t seem like it’s broken. He got you good enough to draw blood, though. I’m just surprised it’s still going.”

Okay, I  _ definitely  _ recognised that voice. My face turned up to meet the handsome blur and I blinked the tears out of my eyes. He seemed just as surprised to see me as I’d been to see him, but unlike me only a sliver of shock peeked through his composure. A moment later he managed to collect himself, all business when he pulled the gauze from my nose to replace it with a fresh square. 

“How’s your head?” His grey eyes flickered, examining me in a way that was very different from the night we’d met nearly a week ago. 

“Fine.” It throbbed, but nothing unbearable. My eyes did some work finding his nametag, but I managed, reaching out to twist it so the glare didn’t cut off his surname. Dr. Gabriel A. Hale.  _ The _ Doctor Hale. The new doctor I hadn’t actually gotten to meet during the original team meeting when he’d first joined our ranks. 

“If it doesn’t stop soon, we’ll have to think of something else.”

“I used to get nosebleeds a lot as a kid.”

“Easy bleeder?”

“‘Fraid so.” I mumbled. No way this was really happening. I couldn’t even look him in the eye. I’d seen enough, and it wasn’t going to help my case.

“You sure you feel okay? You’re a little flushed.”

It wasn’t the injury, that was for sure. “I’ll be alright.” Reluctantly, he straightened, hovering nearby for several moments. Maybe he didn’t actually remember.  _ Or didn’t want to _ . The thought crossed my mind, unwelcome and souring any excitement that’d bubbled up with seeing him again. 

Picking myself up, I put a little more distance between so I could think clearly. “Thanks, I think I’ve got it from here.”

“Sure.” He offered, his tone too polite.

One second I was standing there and in the next I’d turned to go off and busy myself with whatever I could while I processed this new information. He was here… and we worked together. 

I would have to see him again.

“Maddi?” It was Manuella. She laid a soft hand between my shoulder blades and I turned to give her arm a squeeze. “I’m all good. Just gonna’ get changed up so I don’t look like a murder scene, you know?”

“Course, if you need a break, let me know. I’m gonna’ start on the rounds now.”

“Thanks, that kind of sidetracked checks.” I dipped off toward the staff lounge and thanked God it was empty. I needed a minute. Maybe ten, at least to get my head straight. Nothing before this point mattered. I told myself this over and over, pacing the tile, but the more I tried to put a lid on the memories, the more insistent they became. A shudder took my spine, skin still warm on my jaw where he’d laid his fingertips to get a better look at me.

And then I remembered the club and my breath faltered. Had it really happened? He was so… different now. Maybe it was the contrast my brain was having trouble with reconciling. After five minutes of deliberation, I squared my shoulders and returned to the floor. This was work. We were professionals. There was no reason why we should see any issues if I reminded myself of that. 

It even seemed to work. Any words we exchanged were polite and appropriately distant. He didn’t seem bothered, and I did my best to seem as similarly disinterested as possible. At the end of my shift, I tossed myself in the showers, dressed to head home, and high-tailed it out of there as fast as I could. I figured I was in the clear when I didn’t spy anyone out on the pavement. Last I’d checked change of shift was still going down, so it’d been the perfect opportunity to get out of dodge before things got awkward. 

“Maddison,”

_ Fuck. _

Dr. Hale—Gabriel—whoever the hell he was slid out of the shadows like some kind of vampyre. He straightened up from his car, arms unfolding as he approached. “Can we talk?”

“What could we have to talk about?” I did my best not to look up into his eyes, unsure what I’d find staring back at me.

“I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding.”

“There isn’t, I assure you.”

Hazarding a peek up at him, I caught the tail end of some emotion that flickered across his features. 

“Can we meet? At a decent hour, preferably.” 

As much as I wanted to say no, I nodded. Surely it couldn’t hurt to hear him out. “Where… when?” 

“Somewhere casual, public.” The ‘so I can’t undress your implication felt silly, but my mind had no issue torturing me with it nevertheless. “You know the little café on Stuyvesant?” 

Unfortunately. “Uhu.” 

“Meet there say, one in the afternoon tomorrow?” 

I almost asked how he could’ve known I’d be free, but of course. We had to know each other’s schedules around here. “Tomorrow, then.” 

Not entirely convinced, I was sure, but willing to accept my answer, he nodded. “Can I walk you to your car?” 

“I didn’t drive.” 

“Need a ride home?” Any closed space with him didn’t bode well for my judgement, as much as I wanted to say yes and hope he jumped me the second the doors were locked. 

“Nah, I’m good.” Before he could offer anymore help, I started off for the other end of A Lot and lifted a hand in goodbye. We’d pick this up tomorrow. Tonight, I just wanted to crawl into bed and die. 


End file.
